


Getting To Know You

by Creej



Series: A New Life [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: AU where Elizabeth marries Neal, F/M, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 16:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Peter, still stinging from Elizabeth's rejection, bumps (literally) into the person who will change his life.





	Getting To Know You

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after Hard Choices.

"So, where do you recommend?" Peter asked. "I'm not that familiar with this area."

"There's this little place a few blocks from here," Hannah said. "More pub than bar."

Peter let her lead the way, reflecting on the way his day had gone. He hadn't planned on being anywhere near the church where Elizabeth and Neal had gotten married but had found himself there anyway. Now, a woman he'd just met had invited him for drinks. That didn't happen to him. Ever.

"Here we are," Hannah said, pulling open the door of an intimate looking pub, its low light making the polished wood of the interior glow softly. The bar stretched the length of the back wall; on either side, semi-private booths upholstered in red leather and, filling the central space were tables seating either two or four people. For a weekend afternoon it was slow. Hannah led him to a booth and slid into the seat while he sat across from her. He took a moment to really look at her and like what he saw. She was nothing like Elizabeth, with her green eyes, blonde hair and slender frame.

A server approached to take their orders and Peter was charmed when she ordered a beer like he did. By mutual agreement they also ordered a plate of appetizers.

"So. The wedding. Why didn't you go?" Hannah asked. when the server left.

"Like I said, long story."

"I've got time," Hannah said.

"You're sure?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

So Peter told her the story of how he and his friend Neal had both dated Elizabeth, how that had gone on for almost a year before Elizabeth had to make a choice. He told her of that evening in the restaurant, how Elizabeth had looked at Neal and he'd known, how he'd taken himself out of the picture so she wouldn't have to say it out loud. How he'd cut all ties to them for his own peace of mind. He found it remarkably easy to talk to her - usually he bordered on tongue-tied when talking to women when he wasn't on the job. And he told her so. He found himself telling her how he felt when Elizabeth had chosen Neal, how angry he was when he'd received the invitation, how he'd sent it back, torn to pieces.

"So what is your job?" Hannah asked, sipping her beer.

"FBI agent," Peter said. "White Collar division."

"Wow. G-man," Hannah said, a slightly mischievous smile curving her mouth.

Peter smiled. "I prefer 'Agent' but I suppose you could say that," he said.

"Ever been shot by some desperate criminal?"

"Took one in the leg a few years ago," Peter said. "I was serving a warrant on some broker, guy pulls out a gun and gets a shot off. Lucky for me he had lousy aim."

"White collar?"

"Financial crimes," Peter said. "Embezzlement, money laundering, scams, half a dozen flavors of fraud...sometimes forgery."

"Counterfeiting? Like money?"

"Money's handled by the Secret Service," Peter said. "My division sometimes deals with forged bearer bonds, company bonds, things of that nature. And, very occasionally, stolen or forged paintings and art."

"So, you chase the smart criminals," Hannah said.

Peter shrugged. "To embezzle hundreds of thousands of dollars - or more - you have to be smart," he said. "It takes more brains to do that than it does to rob a bank." He took a long swallow of his beer then asked, "What about you?"

"I'm an independent business woman," Hannah said.

"Can you be more specific?"

"Caterer. Mostly corporate parties, retirement parties, the occasional graduation or promotion," she said. "I've also done the odd gallery opening."

"How long?"

"Almost ten years," Hannah said. "You?"

"Coming up on twelve. Why catering?"

"I like food," Hannah said. "Making it, eating it, experimenting with it. Why the FBI?"

"I like putting bad guys out of business and behind bars," Peter said. "The fact that they're smart makes it more interesting. I have to figure out how they did what they did and where they put the money."

"Which means you have to be that much smarter," Hannah said.

"It's a team effort," Peter said. "Not just me."

"What was your most interesting case?"

"Con artist suspected in art theft, art forgery and half a dozen confidence schemes." Peter said. "Chased him for almost three years before I caught up to him. Could only make one charge stick though. He's currently serving four years for bond forgery. Your most interesting job?"

"Gallery opening," Hannah said. "More funny than interesting. The artist was a real prima donna. Wouldn't let anyone touch him or even hand anything to him, acted like no one was quite good enough." She smiled. "I thought it was funny how he looked down his nose - almost literally - at everyone..." The mischievous smile appeared again. "He practically fell flat on his face, tripping up the step into the gallery."

"Pretentious doesn't quite cover it, right?" Peter asked, amused.

Hannah laughed. "If his ego was physical, he'd never have made it in the door," she said. "That's why I usually don't do events like that. I have yet to meet an artist that was down to earth, you know?"

"I've never met any, so..."

"From my experience you're not missing anything," Hannah said. She sobered a little, her smile becoming softer. "So, Peter Burke, FBI agent, are you free tomorrow night?"

Peter felt his heart speed up and his mouth go dry. "I could be," he said a little hoarsely. "Why?"

"I'm asking you out on a date," Hannah said.

Before he could stop himself, Peter asked, "Why?"

"Because I think you're interesting, I like talking to you and the fact that you're handsome is a bonus," Hannah said. She was surprised by his surprise. "Really?"

"Compared to most men...I'm not really," Peter said. "And my social skills...well, I know they need work."

"You seem to be doing all right to me," Hannah said. She regarded him a moment. "So...tomorrow?"

"Do you like Italian?" Peter asked in response.

Hannah smiled. "I love Italian," she said. She held out her hand, palm up. "Give me your phone."

Curious, Peter handed it over and watched as she first put her number into it then put his into hers before handing it back. "Are you sure you've never done this before?" he asked.

"Never," Hannah said. "But there's something about you..."

Peter shrugged, feeling a little self conscious. "I don't think I'm all that special," he said, feeling his face warm and glad the low lighting hid it.

"This woman...Elizabeth...she didn't think so?"

"She married someone else," Peter reminded her. He fiddled with his glass a moment. "Should have listened to my gut on that," he said. He shook himself. "Sorry about that. Here you asked me for drinks and I'm going on about my ex."

"You have a history with her so it's bound to come up," Hannah said. "It happens."

"I'll try not to let it happen too often," Peter said with a rueful smile. He let out a breath and glanced at his watch. "As much as I'd like to stay, I really should be going. Still have a stack of case files to go through."

"Yeah," Hannah said on a sigh. "I have some work to get done myself."

 

"So, tomorrow?" Peter asked as they walked back to the parking lot at the church.

"I look forward to it," Hannah said.

Almost by reflex, Peter memorized the make, model, color and license plate of Hannah's car as they bid each other good bye. He sat behind the wheel of his car for a few moments after she drove off, wondering what had possessed him. He didn't pick up random women and random women didn't pick him up. He wasn't used to being the center of anyone's attention - not even Elizabeth's. When he'd been with her, he'd frequently gotten the impression that her mind was on Neal instead. He sighed and put the car in gear - he _did_ have a stack of case files waiting for him.

 

But when he got home, he found he couldn't concentrate on the file open before him. Instead, he saw Hannah, her gaze steady on him as he told her about his failed courtship of Elizabeth, her expression by turns sympathetic, insulted and outraged on his behalf. And usually when he talked about his work, most people's eyes got a faraway look as they pretended to listen. Hannah, on the other hand, had seemed genuinely interested. He sighed and pushed Hannah out of his mind, turning his attention to work.

 

Peter stood in his bedroom, a tie in each hand, debating which would go better with the suit he was wearing. Finally, he decided on neither, going for a dressy casual look. It was a date, not an interrogation. He studied himself critically in the mirror - the dress slacks, light blue button down open at the throat, the dark blue blazer - and decided that at least he didn't look hideous.

Per their agreement, they met at the restaurant - Peter staying away from the one where Elizabeth had broken his heart - and he arrived a few minutes early and ordered a bottle of wine. He wasn't as much of an expert as Neal was but he could choose a decent vintage. A basket of breadsticks had just been deposited on the table when he saw Hannah arrive and he stood to greet her. "You look...great," he said, taking in the deep green dress that fell modestly to her knees, the neckline giving just a peek of her shoulders and the low heels on her gold sandals.

"You look very handsome yourself," Hannah said as she took the seat her held for her. "And a gentleman too." There was a pause as the server came by to take their orders. "So, tell me about Peter Burke," she said after they placed their orders - lasagna for Peter, chicken cacciatore for her. "Where'd you grow up, any brothers or sisters, parents, interests?"

"I grew up in a small town in upstate New York," Peter said. "My dad was in construction and my mom was a part time teacher. I have one sister. As for interests..." He shrugged. "I've always had a passion for baseball," he said. "Played some in college."

"Mets or Yankees?" Hannah asked, eyes alight.

"Yankees," Peter said. "You?"

"A man after my own heart," Hannah said. "Been a fan since I could walk."

"What about you?"

"Brooklyn," Hannah said. "Two older brothers so I learned to stand up for myself early."

"They picked on you?"

"Not really," Hannah said. "But I was their kid sister so they were almost duty bound to pick on me a little." She paused to sip her wine. "But let anyone else try..." She shrugged.

"Protective," Peter said.

"Until I showed them I could take care of myself," Hannah said. "Sometime around the seventh grade."

Conversation paused as their orders were brought then they each talked more about their work - Peter telling her of his more interesting cases and Hannah telling him of the people she'd met and the places she'd used for her venues. "You arrested someone _inside_ MoMA?" Hannah asked, eyes a little wide.

"Yeah, not the most slick thief," Peter said, chuckling a little. "He actually tried just walking past me with a small painting. I'd been there for another case - possible forgery - and this guy sidles past, practically whistling nonchalantly, as if he thought there was no way I'd notice. I just took the painting, slapped the cuffs on and hauled him downtown. All the while, he's protesting his innocence."

"I guess that's another for the stupid criminal file," Hannah said with a grin.

"If only all of them were that inept," Peter said. "My job would be a lot easier."

 

Before they quite realized it, the restaurant emptied out around them and, with obvious reluctance on both their parts, called it a night. Peter insisted on walking her to her car and making sure she was safely on her way. For a first date, Peter was satisfied he hadn't made a complete fool of himself. The conversation had flowed easily, one story following another - she had even laughed at his horrible puns and jokes, her merriment genuine.

When he got home, he was surprised to receive a text from her: _Really enjoyed myself tonight. I hope we can do it again sometime soon._

_I look forward to it. Soon._

 

It was a few weeks before they could get together again for more than coffee or a quick drink since they were both busy with work. Peter remained somewhat surprised at how relaxed and confident he was with her. Finally, when they could slow down a little and breathe, Peter sent her a text asking if she'd like to do something a little more casual than their first date. Immediately, he received a reply - she knew of a great little pizza place not far from her apartment. They settled on a day and time and Peter allowed himself to speculate on the end of the date for a few minutes - walking her to her door, maybe a kiss before he left. He shook his head, dispelling the image - he had no problem letting her take the lead.

 

He sat for a moment in front of Hannah's building, trying to calm the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach. They'd agreed to walk to the pizza place to take advantage of the mild weather. He sent her a quick text to let h er know he was outside and she came out a few minutes later, dressed casually in jeans and a button down - much as he was.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yeah, let's go."

He was surprised but pleased when she slipped her hand in his and he felt his breath hitch at how natural it felt. Without thinking, he raised it to his lips and brushed a kiss over her fingers, breathing easier when she smiled up at him. Hannah led them over to a table for two and they conferred briefly on what toppings to get and each ordered a beer. "It's nice to be able to slow down," she said.

"My whole week was slow," Peter said. "I spent most of the last week either stuck in the van or doing paperwork."

"Sounds...boring," Hannah said.

"It is," Peter said. "But it's part of the job. What about you?"

"Seems all I did was deal with one near disaster after another," Hannah said. "It's been a hell of a few weeks." Her mouth quirked. "Good thing I love my work."

As they ate their pizza they went into a little more detail about their work before drifting onto other topics. Once again, they almost closed the place down before walking back to Hannah's building and Peter's car. He wasn't the only one nervous as they stood outside, holding hands. He felt his nerves jangle, his throat close and his mouth go dry as he bent forward a little but she made it easy for him and brought their mouths together in a soft kiss. He sighed when Hannah opened her mouth, her tongue flirting with his and he couldn't help his response.

"How far do you want to take this, Peter?" Hannah asked in a low voice.

Peter gave a short laugh as he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. "I'm trying to be a gentleman here," he said. "I mean, we've only had two real dates..."

"I can wait if you want," Hannah said.

Again, Peter huffed out a laugh. "That's the thing. I _don't_ want to wait...but I think we should," he said. His smile faded. "You don't know what I'm like at home."

"So we'll go there next," Hannah said. She reached up, brushing her fingertips over his mouth. "Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you smile...or how good a kisser you are?"

"I think you're the first," Peter said.

"I'm glad," Hannah said. She let out a breath. "So...I'm going to get in..."

"Yeah," Peter said. "I'll call you tomorrow, all right?"

Hannah gave him a nod and released his hand, glancing back over her shoulder before going inside.

Once in his car, he sat, getting himself under control, thinking about the kiss...and Hannah's offer. He didn't deny it had been tempting - he'd admitted as much to her - but he also didn't want to rush things.

 

Peter put the last touches on dinner, checked that the wine was breathing then opened the door to reveal Hannah, dressed in a black skirt and white blouse. "Just in time," he said as she entered.

"Something smells good," she said. "You cook too?"

"I know my way around a kitchen well enough," Peter said, pouring them each a glass of wine. He handed her one and said, "If you want to be a little nosy, go ahead."

"You don't mind?"

He stepped up to her until there were only inches between the and said softly, "If we're going to be spending a lot of time together then no, I don't mind."

"How long until dinner's ready?' Hannah asked. 

"Almost done," Peter said.

"Then I'll wait until after." Again, she took the initiative and brought their mouths together and Peter responded almost reflexively, pulling her flush against him. Carefully, he extracted the glass from her hand and set it aside, a small part of him relieved that he didn't hear breaking glass. He stole the gasp from her mouth as he drifted his hands down her sides to the curve of her hips, banishing all thought of Elizabeth when they arose - Hannah wasn't the woman who'd broken his heart. She was here, pressed against him, returning his kiss as her hands mapped the contours of his back. They would have continued but were startled apart when the kitchen timer went off.

"If that was the appetizer, I can't wait for the main course," Hannah said a little breathlessly. Peter noticed her eyes were a little darkened with arousal and suspected his were as well.

"What if I want you as the main course?" Peter asked before he could stop himself. Inwardly, he cringed.

"Then I get you for dessert," Hannah said. Reluctantly she stepped back "But I think we should have dinner first."

Somehow, they made it through dinner, taking any and every opportunity to trade touches. Later, they wouldn't be able to remember what they talked about but they were almost hyperaware of each other. The dishes were barely put to soak before Hannah claimed his mouth and pushed him toward the bedroom, deftly relieving him of his shirt. Peter's legs hit the edge of the bed and Hannah pulled back, her gaze sweeping over his bare chest. "Jesus Peter, why do you insist on hiding this?" she breathed. She ran her hands over the smooth skin, pausing briefly on a scar that marred his shoulder and looked the question.

"Surgery when I was in college," Peter said. "Torn rotator cuff." He shivered a little when she dropped a kiss on the scar. Hesitantly, he brought his hands up and unbuttoned her blouse, sliding it down her arms before unfastening her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. Hannah let the shirt fall as she kicked off her shoes and took Peter's mouth again as she worked to unfasten his belt and slacks, smiling a little when she felt his response. Once they were naked, Hannah pushed Peter onto the bed and stretched herself over him, moving sensuously against him.

Peter wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over. He didn't want this to be animalistic rutting which was where it seemed to be heading. Instead, he slid down her body, kissing as he went, getting familiar with the taste of her skin. Finally, he breathed deep of her scent, feeling her fingers run through his hair, hearing her breath hitch as he took his first - but hopefully not last - taste of her.

For her part, Hannah briefly wondered how Elizabeth could be fool enough to choose someone else then all thought ceased when Peter latched onto the most sensitive part of h er and sucked firmly, stopping just as she approached the edge. Before she could stop herself, she let out a disappointed whine but let out a long exhale when Peter slid home. Automatically, her legs wrapped around his waist as he started to move, slowly at first then more quickly, driving them over the edge. They lay for a moment, tangled and sweaty, as their breathing slowed to normal. "I'm not too heavy, am I?" Peter asked, voice muffled in her neck.

"No, you feel good," Hannah said, settling him closer against her, hands drifting down his back. She turned his face toward her and took his mouth in a gentle kiss. "So, how was the main course?" she asked, mischievous and teasing.

"Delicious," Peter said. "And dessert?"

"I don't know. I haven't had dessert yet," Hannah said, sounding amused. "And I'm definitely staying for dessert."

 

Peter woke slowly, becoming aware of a warm weight next to him. His first thought was of Elizabeth then immediately on the heels of that was, no...Hannah. He opened his eyes to the picture of her sleeping face, a smile touching her mouth. He drew the sheet down, exposing the curve of her hip and drifted his hand down her side, the dip of her waist, making her stir. Her eyes opened and her smile widened.

"Hey, handsome," she said softly, her voice a little sleep roughened.

"Hey beautiful," Peter said quietly as he cupped her face.

She mirrored his gesture, caressing his face, mapping it with her fingers, her breath hitching when he drew one into his mouth and sucked gently. This time it was her turn to acquaint herself with his body and she took her time, feeling Peter relax under her, letting her do as she wished. Almost hesitantly - more tentative than she usually was - she wrapped her hand around his length, feeling it harden. She began stroking, hearing him breathe deeply. She continued until he was riding the edge then she swung a leg over and sank down onto him, his hands lightly gripping her waist. He held her there for a moment then helped her lift herself up slightly before she sank back down.

Peter looked up at her, her breasts begging to be touched and held so he complied, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, watching them peak. They drew it out this time - neither had anywhere to be the next day - and Peter let her drive them over the edge of release. Before she could dismount, he sat up and bent his head to take a breast in his mouth, her back arching over his arm. He felt a stirring as her fingers dug into his shoulders. She dragged his head up and kissed him urgently, hungrily as she moved against him. She immediately began riding him as he hardened inside her, hands braced on his shoulders. He watched her face as she moved, watched as her eyes closed and heard the hitching, ragged gasps before she suddenly stilled, her mouth working soundlessly as she tightened around him, shuddering.

"Peter... You didn't..." she said breathlessly.

"That was for you," Peter said softly.

Her expression softened, her lips curled in a smile. "My gentleman G-man," she said. But it wasn't teasing, it was affectionate. Her smile grew a little at his silent question. "Yeah, my G-man," she said.

He pulled her against him, arms wrapped around her. "Sounds...nice," he whispered. He chuckled softly. "Your G-man...I like that,"

 

Over the following weeks, more and more of Hannah appeared in Peter's apartment as she spent more nights with him. Peter was surprised but gratified at how well they worked around each other, how smoothly they fit. It was Hannah that pointed out the slight ridiculousness of maintaining two apartments and - since she spent the majority of her off-time at Peter's - he suggested she let the lease on her apartment expire and move in with him.

The night she finished moving the last of her things, Peter pulled out all the stops and made a celebratory dinner, complete with wine and dessert.

"I thought I'd have you for dessert, G-man," Hannah said teasingly but with a touch of heat.

"I'll be seconds if you want," Peter said.

"Mmmm, always up for seconds."

When they finally tumbled into bed, it was just to cuddle, kiss and caress, knowing they had time. As Hannah drifted to sleep beside him, he was surprised and pleased to realize that Elizabeth hadn't crossed his mind in weeks - Hannah had mended his broken heart and had taken up residence.

 

Epilogue

 

Elizabeth slowed as she caught sight of Peter at an outdoor cafe, sitting with a striking blonde woman.

"El?" Neal questioned.

She gestured at the couple, laughing at something she hadn't caught. "Peter," she said. "He looks so...happy."

"I'm glad he is," Neal said. "Aren't you?"

Elizabeth smiled up at him. "Yes, of course I am," she said. But as the continued on their way, she wondered: had she made a mistake, choosing Neal over Peter? Could he have made her as happy as his companion obviously was? As they passed the table, Peter took the woman's hand and brushed a kiss over it, his expression - and hers - unmistakable. It was love.


End file.
